SERIOUSLY?

"Mornin", she exclaimed as she popped her head out of the glass bubble terrarium.  With a door barely unlocked and stepping into a half-lit shop, to hear anything at all much less a squeaky voice from above was rather disconcerting. 
"Gracious, Mossy!  You are the early bird (or rather gnome)  this morn," I can't help but answer. " Yup,"  she grins kicking one leg out of the opening and swinging her perch dangerously close to the nearby cooler.  Nestled in the sand, shells and airplants, Mossy's pose speaks of relaxing summertime- hammock moments; however, one look at her expression and ya know this just ain't so!  "Uh Oh!", was my next thought and no sooner had I thunk it then scrambling out and up the rope she began a routine.  It was complete with her singing the musical accompaniment and worthy of a Ringling Brothers Circus any day.  Wrapping one ballet-slippered foot above her in the rope, she hung upside down twisting and posing and throwing kisses to every corner of the shop.  Seriously?  Funny, the appearance of Mossy in my life has evidently created that particular expression as a common one for me-so pointed out by Don at breakfast.  Oh, why not, I dropped my keys and with clapping began to egg the little acrobat on.  Pulling herself upright she inched further up the rope, swinging back and forth, higher and higher.  Just when I thought the terrarium was about to crash into the cooler, Mossy let go.  Sailing through the air straight above my head she executes a perfect head-over-heels flip.  Was that Spongebob underwear briefly flashed?  Turning my head, I see her land square in the middle of a King Protea.  Freezing, she leans forward as if to hear better.  "Did you hear it?" I can only shake my head in answer.  "Teensy just trumpeted", she declares.  "Who is Teensy?" I ask, leaning forward as if to hear, too.  "The elephant, Silly, didn't you see her yesterday in the large cooler?"  Well, talk about overlooking the elephant in a room!  Now it was the cooler!  At this, I rush to the cooler but no elephant I see.  "Uh Oh!", this time it was Mossy's turn to utter this one.  Like a Tasmanian Devil she tore out the back door.  I hurried after to see, but not a Mossy or a Teensy graced the parking lot.  "Well, I never", I spoke out loud.  "Where on earth do you start after that scene?"  But begin I must, so that I did:  lights on, computers up, freshen front cooler, make a lovely or two, sweep large cooler....  

It was here I muttered again,  "Well, I never!"  For now I saw what I had previously missed scattered amongst the petals.  Shells - not SEASHELLS!  They were EVERYWHERE empty, peanut shells......SERIOUSLY?

"psst....psssst....,"

Mossy whispered in my ear.   Standing on my shoulder she motioned to the backseat.  Good golly Miss Molly or Miss Kylee one should say.  Sunlight sparkled on her nose and her tongue as she licked DQ's bounty of a vanilla soft cone.  "Summer's here!"  Mossy chanted as she jumped up & down.  With delight in a flash I knew just what she meant.  I could smell it.  I could feel it:  a newly mowed lawn, blackberry cobbler, children's laughter as they walked through the woods, fresh mint floating in a glass of tea, fireflies dancing on a warm evening's breeze...  The magic of summer had just begun.  Yes, maybe a few more days of school must linger.  "But not for long,"  Mossy whispered from the dash.  To be a gnome is not enough.   The little minx must now be a mind reader, too! 

I stretched and I yawned in the warm sunlight streaming in, as a toe tapping Mossy step-ball chained across the dash....

"Summer's here, Summer's here, hallelujah, Summer's here!" 

sugar cookies, mOssy and cherry pie?????

I rolled the cookies, sprinkled abit more sweetness to each and popped them in the oven.  Returning to an earlier batch, I scooped them unto a pedestal cake plate as Adele finished her last Rumor Has It.  Adele and then cookie plates are a new and old obsession.   Put anything on a pedestal and BAM some gotta have, gotta need, gotta buy turns on like a flashing neon sign in my soul.  Okay, I realize this is abit dramatic, but seriously, what doesn't look better with a little elevation?  And speaking of soul.  Adele's every lyric speaks of hers.  Mossy informed me that NOBODY can sing like Adele.  "Hmmmmmm," was my reply which brought on one of her eyebrows shooting straight up and under her hat.  As I repeated the rhythm of cookie baking, I inquired of Mossy's activities.  "Cheerio" was her very exuberant reply and then "poof" she went.   Funny, her cheerio sounded more like cherrio.   Mossy's latest royal obsession is - guess.......  I could give you 3, but you would not require it.  I find every bit of Kate & Prince Williams' interviews on my menu list of recordings.  I must admit this gnome thing can be very disconcerting at times.  There is a surprise around every corner, though most are delightful.  Like the wee tiny cherry pie, I found amongst my cookies.  "Wow, MOssy, your cherry pie is a masterpiece,"  I exclaimed.  "Thank you,"  she squeaked reappearing, as she began to rattle on about Friday and 4 o'clock and then something about Bebe's favorite dessert.  "What?"  I wanted to know.  "Are you planning a Royal Wedding Party?"  Tis then moSsy began to strut her stuff.  She sidled to one side holding up the tip of her skirt.  She sidled to the other side switching sides of her skirt edge.  With each move she made she cut her eyes over that shoulder winking exaggeratedly along the way.  Suddenly with a rather dramatic pause she sings "RUMOR HAS IT!" 

whata whata difference.....

in retrospect a few days can make.  Now, granted, it didn't seem like a few days when scraping my windshield or wrapping that scarf once again or wiping watery eyes from frigid air.  Retrospect, in my experience is a lot better on this side than the other.  In fact, the old adage, the grass is greener on the other side, does not apply here.  Regardless, Spring is glorious in Pandora!!!!!  This morning's coffee found Mossy swinging from a sign nestled amidst the azaleas.  "Whats a Peeler?" she squeaked as she hung monkey style by one arm.  "It's my mom's maiden name, my grandparent's names, JT and Sylva."  Glancing again, for her reaction the space was empty.  "Mossy?"  I muttered as I settled down to sip and see the antics of Pandora.  We've an entire bevy of new birds this year of which Don & I keep wondering what they are without seeking any clarification of the question.  It's actually becoming another one of those routines we excel at.  "Look,"  I'll say, "there is one of those birds."  "Yes," he replies  "I wonder what it is."   Upon reflection, I must admit, WE are the same birds of a feather.   Tis comfort in routine.  What were the routines of my grandparents?  As I child, did I ever notice?  Tis comfort in the sameness (don't think this is a word) of the one you love.   Pondering such deep thoughts, I failed to see until the Blue Jay landed in front of me who was riding on his back.  Mossy jumped quickly down, blew him a kiss and began to clog.  Okay, you think I'm kidding, right?  Nope.  CLOG!  She was even wearing tiny golden wooden clogs.  She was also sporting a red velvet vest upon which was pinned a small Johnny-Jump-up bloom.  I sat quickly up and began to clap as her cavorting (sorry, clogging) circled the pond.   "I declare,"  I shouted, catching her infectious mood.  "I'll join you, too!."   Twas then that "routine" flew off with that Blue Jay.    Now, all I'm going to say here, is you missed quite the sight, this bright and beautiful morn, when a small tiny gnome and a grandmother of 8 clogged merrily amidst the blooms! 

"Run, Mossy, run.................."

I thought of Bubba Gump as I yelled these words to Mossy! 

We've a squirrel that has recently come-a-visiting to our Pandora (backyard).  He must be a teen for he runs everywhere he goes with an attitude.  His first endeavor was to unbaffle the squirrel baffle, thereby emptying the bird feeder with great haste.  From this perch, he jumps to the tray of colorful wool tidbits and sunflower seeds.  They all scatter in the collision like confetti at a party.  Not to be thwarted by this mischievous somewhat naughty one that I've named Eddie Haskell ( for those who remember Leave It To Beaver).  Don enters the picture, first with a bb gun.  Now here I would admit to being upset if he could EVER hit anything.  Then I see Don in a full wrestle with the baffle.  Ahhhhh, the activities of a January day.......  BUT, low and behold the baffle begins to baffle.  Eddie runs up the pole and bumps his head on the baffle.  He does it again.  He jumps down and runs the perimeter of the pond.  He runs it again.  He runs up another pole of a feeder which has a no-squirrel lever for feeding.  Now more wiser and older squirrels jump to the top of this feeder:  spread eagle, hang down the front, open the lever and proceed to eat hanging somewhat upside down.  Eddie is not so wise in his endeavor. 

Suddenly coming into view skidding to a halt under this feeder is Mossy.  She is holding up a pecan and appears to be taunting our teenager.  Boom, the race is on.  Eddie lands close, but not close enough as Mossy's laughter of bells rings loud and clear in the cold crisp air.  Having received a couple inches of snow simply adds to the fun as Mossy led Eddie on a merry, sliding chase.   Mossy's innate ability to stay just out of reach proves to be Eddie's undoing.  Obviously tiring he fails to remain as observant as he perhaps should.  So, when Mossy hops to the stone bridge and then to the side, Eddie follows only to go straight into the stream.  His momentum takes him the few feet down til he finished his dip with a rather large not-so-pretty cannonballish splash.  At this point, Mossy and I are rolling!!!!  He bobs to the surface and then quickly out, face to face with the still-in-place snowman of Christmas' decor.  Now call me nuts (hoho like who wouldn't?) I believe that snowman winked and chuckled joining in on the escapades of Eddie.  Warmed we all were (well, except for maybe Eddie) by the laughter and fun of the antics of one snowy, winter afternoon.